


One Night Tryst

by LadyVegeets



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVegeets/pseuds/LadyVegeets
Summary: Vegeta meets an unusual patron at a crummy little dive bar. (Written for TPTH's drabble night)





	One Night Tryst

**1\. After Work Drinks**

 

The condensation on his drink dripped down to form a small puddle around the base of the glass. Vegeta sat at the bar and watched the moisture gather, nursing the beverage he neither liked nor had ordered. Raditz had thrust it upon him, saying something about ‘after work drinkie-poos’, wisely running off before Vegeta could punch him in the face for it. How the fuck Raditz and Nappa had convinced him to come to this dive, Vegeta couldn’t remember. Neither could he fathom why he was still here. Nothing was preventing him from leaving, but here he was, moping at the bar and glaring murder at anyone who so much as had a passing thought about starting a conversation with him. 

The truth of the matter was, he had nowhere better to be. 

Raising the glass to his mouth, Vegeta took a frigid sip. He grimaced as the artificial cherry flavoring assaulted his taste buds.

Revolting. 

A woman’s laughter, right by his shoulder, made him turn.

She was beautiful. Her proportions were all in alignment and symmetrical, and her hair a bright unusual shade of teal. But her most attractive quality was her smile: she was beaming right at him, blue eyes crinkling with amusement. 

“Looks like you could use a better drink.”

* * *

~xox~

 

**2\. Dirty Little Secret**

 

“I was just about to leave,” Vegeta lied. The dance of verbal back-and-forth that others called ‘flirting’ was something which Vegeta had little tolerance for. Mostly because he didn’t understand it, nor had much experience with it.  

The woman pouted playfully. She ran her fingers though short, silken hair. Diamonds clung to her earlobes. As her hair shifted, shimmers of refracted light danced across the bar. 

What was a pretty, well-to-do thing like her doing in a place like this? Talking to _him_ no less?

She leaned in, placing a delicate hand on his thigh. It made him tense, not just his leg but his whole body. A thrill of something wild and dangerous came to life inside him. A primitive part awakened, his inner predator alert. Not for prey. A rival.

“You can’t leave yet,” she cooed, her fingers flexing on his leg, like a cat kneading a blanket. She leaned in further under the guise of being better heard against the hubbub. The top three buttons of her blouse were undone. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“You have to whet your appetite properly,” she added with a coy smile. 

Holy shit _._

“What do you drink?”

He didn’t trust himself with full sentences. “Scotch. Neat.”

She turned to the barkeep and ordered, requesting his drink be a double. 

Vegeta raised a brow. “You trying to get me drunk?”

Her smile in response was liquid sin. She slid her hand up his thigh, pressing her lips against the shell of his ear. 

His blood ignited in his veins.

“I have a dirty little secret to confess,” she whispered. “I hope to get you absolutely _fucked._ ”

* * *

~xox~

 

**Prompt 3: Caught Red Handed**

 

Vegeta was grateful for the drink when it arrived. Holy shit did he need it. 

“Thanks, uh…?”

“Bulma.”

“Vegeta,” he responded. He didn’t bother offering his hand. It seemed a little redundant when she was already pooled all over him. And for some reason, he tolerated it. She was a stark contrast to everything he hated about this place. She was soft and light next to the coarse decor and murkiness of the dive bar. She was clean and smelt pleasing, not of stale beer and old cigarettes. She was elegant and playful and confident, a bright little blue jay flitting about among unruly boors. She didn’t belong, but it was flattering that she had sought _him_ out amongst all the other rabble.

He sipped his drink, his eyes latched onto her pretty face, suspicious of her motives. She was too good to be true. 

Something caught his eye. Raditz was waving at him from across the room, a look of utter bewilderment on his face.

‘The fuck?!’ Raditz mouthed, eyes as wide as dinner plates, unable to believe Vegeta’s company.

Great. Caught red handed. The last thing Vegeta wanted was Raditz making this out to be a big deal.

As if to confirm his worst fears, the long-haired idiot made a circle with one hand, and penetrated it with a finger.

‘Fuck her,’ Raditz mouthed with a crude grin.

Vegeta scowled and looked away. Like he needed to be told that. Taking a very healthy swallow of his drink, he put the empty glass down on the counter, and looked into Bulma’s glittering blue eyes.

“Want to get out of here?”

* * *

~xox~

 

**Prompt 4: Only After Dark**

 

The street lights cast dramatic shadows that peeled by, one after another, strobing the back of the taxi. In the light, her ivory skin shone, and the subtle highlights of her hair glowed for a brief, brilliant moment, before being swallowed up once again by the dark. They flew through the surreal blackness of night like a ship in space, blinking lights and stars their only illumination.

But Vegeta didn’t have time for fantasy, not when reality was, for once, far, far better. Bulma straddled his lap, undulating against him as she grew intimately familiar with his mouth, and him with hers. Her warm hands held his face to better kiss him, and for once in his life, Vegeta willingly handed over control to someone else. Tiny, happy moans fell from her lips onto his. She grew louder when he slipped his hands up her stockinged thighs to hold her ass. 

“Vegeta~,” she groaned, pushing back into his hands, arching wantonly against him. Holy shit, she was sensual.

It surprised him that the driver hadn’t complained yet. They certainly weren’t being subtle. Only after dark could passengers get away with this shit. The driver was probably just grateful they weren’t throwing-up or being drunkenly aggressive. Vegeta made a note to tip well for the man’s discretion.

“Touch me more,” Bulma gasped.

He kissed her throat and cleavage, a hunger he didn’t know he possessed spurning him on. Normally awkward and unsure around women, Vegeta was encouraged to squeeze her ass with more force than he would normally dare. She shivered in delight, keening as she rocked against him.

“Oh god, I’m so wet,” she confessed.

And holy shit, so was he.

* * *

~xox~

 

**Prompt 5: Sneaking Out**

 

He carried Bulma from the taxi to his place. She clung to him the whole way, not letting go even when he laid her on his bed. 

First to go was her blouse. Pale breasts and petal-pink nipples revealed. The ache in Vegeta’s loins intensified. Fuck, she was pretty.

Caving to his hunger, he laved at her nipples, forcing them to peak and harden against his tongue. She cooed and fidgeted, her stockinged toes curling against his calves.

He couldn’t stop. Starved for more, he kissed his way down her soft belly. When he tugged on her skirt, Bulma lifted her hips, and he slid the fabric off. She wore nothing underneath. Draped on his sheets, stripped of everything, she looked so small and fragile. Like a doll, one he desperately wanted to break.

“Spread them,” he growled.

She bit her lip and complied.

She hadn’t been lying in the cab: she was wet, soaked, the smell of her enticing, like ripe fruit, sweet and sticky. He groaned and forced her pale thighs wider apart, settling between them to press his mouth against her.

The first taste was more intoxicating than any scotch he had drunk.

She wailed, arching back. 

Like a lion clutching its victim, Vegeta did not let go. He devoured his prize, not relenting until she sobbed his name at the top of her lungs and quivered in surrender.

 

~xox~

 

He peeled open one eye. It was early, barely dawn, his bedroom still in shadows. She was getting dressed and trying not to wake him. Vegeta stayed quiet, attempting to ignore the emptiness inside him as he watched her sneaking out.

* * *

~xox~

 

**Prompt 6: Rendezvous**

 

She wasn’t at the bar the following night. Vegeta didn’t know what he expected, returning to such a shit hole, and this time of his own volition. Deep down he knew he wouldn’t see her again. But for some reason, he couldn’t shake her. He even ordered a drink and waited, hoping that at any moment she would show up and laugh at him and his pathetic attempt to meet her again. That was, if she acknowledged him at all. Perhaps she had already spotted him and left, not wanting to ruin the magic of their one amazing rendezvous by turning it into two; Many things lost their luster after the newness wore off.

He had enjoyed one good night, that should have been enough. It wasn’t like him to get hung up on a woman. But Bulma had shaken up his world, rattled him like an old, dusty snow globe, and stirred to life desires and feelings he didn’t know he had. She had left him scattered and yearning for more. But she wasn’t here, hadn’t left a number or even a last name. It was time to let his desires settle, and return to his life of flat, lonesome drudgery.

He exited the bar, his drink leaving the countertop as damp as his spirits.

Vegeta didn’t notice her standing by his front door until he was half-way up the drive. He stopped. Bulma offered a stunning smile that made his heart swell.

“I left my panties here,” she said.

Luckily his mouth worked despite his shock. “…You weren’t wearing any.”

“Oh. Want to see if I’m wearing any now?”

He pressed her up against his front door and kissed her. With a powerful thrust of key into lock, he imitated what he would soon be doing to her on his bed.

 

* * *

~xoXox~

 

**Written for[The Prince and Their Heiress](https://plus.google.com/communities/103990678253787718228)’ June 2017 NSFW drabble night (6 prompts, 300 words each). Find TPTH on google communities and tumblr.**

 


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